Enigma
by NeverTrustAPirate1
Summary: Updated! Eliot gets kidnapped by an evil corporation to mess with the team, but it goes too far and the team is forced out of their comfort zone. How far will the TEAM go to get him back - whatever's left of him. TORTURE and ELIOT WUMPAGE INCLUDED! P/E
1. The Not So Lonley Walk Home

The not-so lonely walk home

It was a freezing, dark night. The dull streetlights would flicker occasionally. "Lazy electricians", the man grumbled as he walked down the unfamiliar street. Every hushed noise had him step with caution. His guards were higher than usual- he would be ready in case anyone was to spring up on him. He would be well prepared; after all, fighting was what he did for a living, and who would be crazy enough to attack someone of his build?

Still, he hated having to walk home; the journey was long enough by car, and walking made him feel vulnerable to attacks. If only his truck's engine hadn't blown, then he wouldn't have been left with the bitterness of having to walk home at 3 am. He looked at his watch, not surprisingly; he had been walking for 40 minutes.

"Great! Only 23 blocks to go" he said with sarcastic enthusiasm. His Husky, Southern accent echoed down the empty street. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small electronic device, he switched it on and placed it in his right ear. Immediately the familiar voices of his team flooded into his head. Their voices sounded panicky.

"I have no idea where he could have gotten off to, Nate, I'm sorry! I really have no idea where he is!"

"Hardison, FIND HIM!" that stern and respectful voice that had replied could have only been Nate. He recognized the superiority. He was about to inform them that he was there, when the unmistakable voice of Parker cut in.

"He's done this before right? Run off? That means he'll come back, yeah. He's going to come back". He could tell that she was trying to convince herself as well as the others, and as it seems, it wasn't working. "What if he's hurt... or dead, he could be dead!" Parker said. The concern was evident in her voice.

"Parker, please! Calm down, he couldn't have gotten far". The last voice was the comforting, motherly voice of Sophie.

Hardison cut in again "well there's been no movement from any of his aliases or credit cards which means he's still here... Sophie what did you find in his apartment?" there was some rustling over the coms, Sophie could be heard moving objects around " hmm? Oh nothing really, cooking books, sporting magazines, just typical stuff, no signs of a struggle. But I did notice that his wallet and car keys are gone, the windows are locked, same with the doo-"she stopped speaking when a husky, southern accent interrupted.

"Sophie I prefer people not going through my stuff, and how the HELL did you get into my apartment? Wait...how did you even find my apartment?

Four sighs of relief were heard over the coms. "Eliot man, what happened to you? Did you think it was a good ol' laugh to disappear off the face of the earth for 48 hours? Ha yeah real funny man...ha. Did you hear that...that make it all worthwhile? HMMMM? YOU COULD HAVE BEEN LAYING IN A DITCH SOMEWHERE MAN! JEEZE" Hardison said, his voice raising several octaves. He hadn't taken a single breath throughout his 'angry speech' so he could now be heard in the background taking enormous breaths in-between muttering curses at Eliot, things like 'nah uh man', 'nope I wouldn't have cared' and 'screw him' were repeated several times before Nate spoke " Eliot, where are you? And do you need medical assistance?" Eliot shook his head but then realised that they could not see him " no I'm fine but my damn engine's blown, so now, I gotta walk home and I'm not entirely trustin' these streets."

He could almost hear Nate thinking, "How long do you have left to go, time wise?" Nate asked. "Uh a little under half an hour at least" replied Eliot. "Hardison have you tracked his position?" Nate asked the young hacker. "Done, and that happened while I was choking too". Hardison said rather smugly. "Good" Nate said looking out of their headquarters' window. "Now go get him".

Hardison looked at Nate with utter disbelief "What? He's the retrieval specialist!" "HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO RETRIVE MYSELF HARDISON?" Eliot yelled into his com. "but...I'm already in my pyjamas" Hardison said defensively standing from his position on the couch. He walked over to Nate to collect the car keys. Hardison's eyes were pleading to Nate, but he just held out the keys "GO" he said sternly.

Hardison grabbed them and strode over to the door where Parker was leaning. She looked at Hardison and tilted her head to the side "They're your pyjamas? I always wondered what they looked like" he shook his head and rolled his eyes. She could her him mumbling her name as he descended down to the exit.

Nate turned back to the window as Sophie entered the room. "Ok Eliot, Hardison's coming to get you, so stay put alright...Eliot? Eliot are you there?..." He heard Eliot's out-of breath and heavy breathing response –"Nate, I... I need...I...trouble..." Eliot's com cut in and out and eventually the only thing that the rest of the team could hear was static.

Nate gripped the window sill and listened intently "...ELIOT?..." he looked back at Sophie; panic flushed her face as she too, heard the situation. Parker walked over to the two of them and gripped Sophie's arm. Nate wiped the new beads of sweat off his forehead and looked at the two women, "Hardison, HURRY!"

That was the second time they had feared for Eliot's life- both in the same night. But this was different, this time they had proof that he was in danger. That his long journey home, might get a hell of a lot longer.


	2. Why We Do, What We Do

Why we do, what we do

Because of his reckless driving, Hardison arrived in less than 14 minutes flat.

He jumped out of his van- not even bothering to close the door and sprinted up the street, searching for any sign of his best friend.

He started to panic; searching shrubs and parked cars for any indication that Eliot Spencer had been there...there was nothing

He turned on his heels and jogged back to the van. He sat in front of one of his many computer screens, searching for Eliot's Com signal, again, like so many times that night, there was nothing.

He reached up to his own ear piece and spoke to the desperate receivers on the other end.

"Guys... He's, he's gone". Hardison's voice was shaky and he tried to forcefully hold back tears. There was silence whilst the team comprehended what the hacker had said.

Each member had their own way of dealing with this new information. Nate could be heard slamming a shot glass down against a flat surface (presumably the counter top), cursing as he did so. Sophie could be heard sobbing softly and Parker remained silent as she stormed out the door, slamming it behind her.

Nate was the next to speak "alright Hardison, come back, we'll think of a plan and Parker...I know the first thing you want to do at a time like this is to jump off something dangerous, but that doesn't help Eliot, we need you in one piece. Everyone, we need to regroup and rediscover why we do, what we do".

Half an hour later, the team (minus Eliot) was assembled on the couch, Parker, sitting in between Sophie and Hardison whilst Nate paced in front of them, his bourbon in hand. He would stop occasionally to look at Sophie who was eyeing the drink with disgust.

He ignored her disapproving stare and turned back towards the many TV screens behind him. Pictures of suspicious felons and mafia groups flooded the screens.

"Hardison, you're sure this is all the organisations that have a bounty on Eliot's head?"

Hardison looked up from his laptop from which he was recently tapping away at. "Yeah Nate, all the organisations that we know of, but, knowing Eliot, there may be thousands more out there, but I know for a fact, that these guys have the highest prices on his head, definitely."

"Can we please STOP talking about Eliot's head! Unless it's here, attached to the rest of his body, I'm NOT INTERESTED..."

Everyone looked at Parker. That outburst was the first time she had spoken since Eliot had been taken and by the tone of her voice, she wasn't taking it very well.

It had been 49 hours since they had last seen Eliot in person, they hadn't realised how much they had grown as a team until they were separated.

And everyone was feeling it, the harsh and tormenting feeling of fear for their Eliot Spencer...

Nate looked at the team; his team "remember when I told you all, that you could leave if you wanted to, if it was getting too much, you're all still here aren't you? We all do our jobs, so we can help those people, who can't help themselves.

Eliot specifically told us that he'll leave, when HE wants to, that nobody can make him leave. Sure, I admit, we took him for granted; and we didn't know what we had until we lost it. But he stuck with this job, the same reason all of you did: to fix the corrupted world and to help the meek who need us. And if asked, I know Eliot would do it all again.

The sacrifices we make – for example, making powerful enemies, is worth it in the end isn't it? Isn't just seeing the victims faces light up after each win WORTH IT?

Just remember, Eliot is the muscle and the shield of this team, if anyone can take the punishment, it's him, he can handle it"

The team felt more motivated after Nate's speech, it opened their eyes a little bit, understanding that each member had their own strength, and that Eliot's 'strength' wasn't just his actual strength alone, but perhaps the strength of his family. Their aggression to attack anyone who fights their family tree, is greater than all else.

The family who fuels Eliot's fire, and the strength of that flame.


	3. New Environments

Eliot awoke to the sound of water dripping. His body remained still and silent as he gathered his bearings. He tried to remember how he had gotten himself into this situation.

The Last thing he remembered was how he wished he was at home, drinking a beer or playing darts... wait! THAT WAS IT! He had been hit by a tranquilizer dart.

That would explain the searing pain in his neck and shoulder and the blurriness of his vision. His eyes flicked around the empty room, gathering and storing information for later use if needed.

He was in a cold concrete room and the only source of light was obviously artificial. Eliot glanced upwards at the single bulb, swinging gracefully above his head. The layers of dust and spider webs sprawled across the walls and floor made breathing extremely difficult. He had no concept of the day or time which only frustrated him further.

He picked himself off the floor once he realised that he was indeed, alone. A heavy steel door was his only exit, and there was no chance that it would be unlocked. It didn't even have a door handle.

Eliot cringed, he was in an enclosed space with limited air and no one could help him. He was indeed, royally screwed.

It seemed like hours had passed before something exciting happened. Eliot was sitting against the far corner with his eyes closed, when he heard it.

Voices.

They were right outside the door, and they were angry. He concentrated on what they were saying rather than trying to identify them. He picked up the sentences "release the gas" followed by "wants him unconscious when we remove him". It didn't take a genius to piece the two together. He held his breath as a mysterious gas seeped into the room.

'Whoever's doing this to me is not going to break easily..' Eliot thought to himself, well he was going to find out soon enough

He couldn't hold his breath forever, so he let darkness consume him, praying that he'll be In a better situation when he woke.

A sharp pain in Eliot's cheek awoke him. He tried to move but he was fastened down with steel chains that wrapped around his wrists and legs. He was hanging from a hook in the ceiling.

'Fantastic' thought Eliot. The pain was caused by a blade that had purposely slid down his face. The holder of the blade was standing a few steps away. His face was hidden and he heavily smelled of smoke.

His sadistic laugh only angered Eliot. The man clicked his fingers and ordered two goons over to Eliot. He whispered something to one of them, the goon nodded and laughed.

The first goon wandered over to Eliot, holding a plank of wood with a rusty nail protruding from one end. He chuckled at Eliot's helplessness.

"My name is Archer, my friend over here is Zane, now we aren't religious men, but you'd best say your prayers Mr Spencer."


	4. Painful Introductions

**AN/ Hey everyone! Sending a major thankyou to you all for reading this far! I'm so sorry for the lack of updates! I know it's been ages! I lost motivation for the story and kinda got a tad stuck! But I'm back on track and ready to continue on with the story! As requested, (and as an apology for the amount of time it's taken) I've made this next chapter EXTRA long so I hope everyone likes it!**

**Thanks to ****cresdin****, ****Ivory Greed****, ****TheNaggingCube****, ****saides****, ****brynn****, ****slytherinprincess91****, ****Chaoslilfury****, ****JaffaCake13****, ****Zena-Xina**** and guests , Ashotaway, Baba-boo, heroblade221 & Brea for reviewing and to the wonderful people who followed/faved the story! I really love your feedback and encouragement! It truly makes my day and creates an incentive for me to continue the story knowing that you're all supporting it! **

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own Leverage. All characters belong to their respected owners. I do however, own the plot of this particular fan-fiction and the baddies within it! **

**P.S this chapter contains some torture, graphic violence and blood— just giving a heads up.**

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Eliot's head flew backwards as the rusty nail collided with his abdomen, blood oozed from the wound. Archer pulled the plank out of Eliot's body and repeated the action several times.

Zane stepped up, holding a small leather-bound book. "We have some exciting 'activities' planned for you Spencer." He opened the book and flipped through the pages, "ah, foot roasting...now that sounds exciting!"

A heavy fist collided with Eliot's head...light bounced before his eyes, dancing ironically.

Zane glanced down at the book again "Did you know that Chinese water torture is listed as the third most gruesome torture method?"

Archer stepped back and grabbed Eliot's face. "Huh... I actually didn't...well... let's put that on the menu!"

Zane laughed at his partners comment, watching as he brought his knee up to Eliot's chin with a thunderous force. The loud crack indicated that he had broken the young man's jaw. Eliot squeezed his eyes shut and tried to breathe through the pain. Tried being the key word.

He could hear the slow _drip-drip_ of blood fall from his bleeding mouth onto the concrete below. Counting each drip took his mind off the pain and allowed him to control his breathing.

_*Drip _ '_Eighty seven' _

_*Drip_ '_Eighty eight' _

_*Drip _ '_Eighty ni-'_

"-diot are you even listening to me?" So lost in his meditation, Eliot had only just registered that someone had been talking to him.

Zane, now standing directly in front of the chained man leaned in close as he spoke again. "I thought you were supposed to be this unstoppable tough guy—"

"-Yeah but then someone gives 'em a wack over the head and he's drooling like some kinda dopey donkey" Archer cut in, squinting at Eliot as he spoke.

Zane shook his head and turned to the cockney Englishman "Seems kinda anti-climactic don't you reckon Arch?"

Archer shook his head in disbelief, making his blonde Mohawk wobble slightly. "Unbelievable... Just a waste of our bloody talents."

"Would you two SHUT UP and get on with it?!" a voice screeched from the intercom on the wall. The raspy voice belonged to the smoke-smelling man that had left the room only moments ago.

"Uhh sorry boss" Zane called out, turning his attention to the camera situated in the upper right corner behind him.

Eliot had been slowly worming his legs out of their imprisonment during the ranting, just waiting for the right opportunity. He took this distraction to swing forward, slamming his legs into the short, beefcake of a man.

Zane grunted in surprise as he was pushed off balance. Landing heavily on the floor he sprawled around for a few seconds trying to find his feet. Once he was vertical, Zane reached for Eliot who in turn head-butted the South-African when he came into arm's length.

Archer, seeing the situation spinning out of control, ran to the far side of the room where their 'equipment' was situated and picked up a length of barbed wire from the table. He ran back to the centre of the room just as Zane went flying again. Archer wrapped the barbed wire around Eliot's throat twice and pulled him back onto his chest.

Eliot gasped and immediately halted his attacks. He could feel the warmth of his blood dripping down his neck in little rivers. He tried to pull away but the chains around his wrist and the wire encircling his neck held strong. He was at risk of permanent damage if he tried to escape the barbs slicing into his throat. Defeated, he became still and lowered his gaze to the floor. Waiting for the punishment he was sure to receive.

"THAT. Was a very rookie mistake Mr Spencer" Zane whispered. His words were cold, devoid of any playfulness he had previously exhibited. As he slowly approached the wilted man he reached up to his own face and wiped the blood away from his mouth that he'd received during the scuffle. Standing before him, he ran the back of his hand across Eliot's cheek and mouth, smearing both of their blood together. The different shades of red made the paleness of his prisoner's skin stand out. The contrast of the colours were harsh, almost artistic. Zane's chest quirked with satisfaction. His dark eyes met the glassy blues in front of him. He desperately wanted to stab and carve and slice away at them, but unfortunately, he was under strict orders not to damage the eyes as they would be needed later on.

Eliot felt the icy stare of the South-African shift from his face down the length of his body to rest on his dangling legs. The man then walked around him and out of sight to somewhere else in the room. Loud _clinks, scrapes_ and _clanks _of metal things being shuffled and moved could be heard from behind him. He could feel Archer, still holding the barbed wire, start to shake. Eliot was confused. '_What's going on?' _he thought to himself. Suddenly a strange cackling sound erupted from the man behind him. Archer was laughing. Something was about to happen. Something that wouldn't be fun or funny for Eliot at all.

Zane emerged from the shadows and what he was carrying made Eliot's stomach drop.

In his hands was a grotesquely oversized meat mallet. Atop its long black handle was the mallet's head; - it was made of rusted steel, four times the size of a human skull. All six sides of the rectangular head was covered in large spikes that somewhat resembled rose thorns.

Eliot's breath quickened. _'What the hell is that? He's not going to use tha…Wait…waitwaitwait… why's he swinging it back? Oh God! Oh fu—_'. All forms of thought left Eliot's mind the very second the spiked mallet made contact with his right thigh. An inhuman scream ripped through his body as all the bones from his femur to his fibula shattered at once. It took all of his willpower to not throw his head backwards as doing so would cause the barbed wire to rip his throat into ribbons. Instead he screwed his eyes shut as tight as they would hold and screamed through his teeth as the mallet was twisted. The thorn-like spikes had punctured straight through Eliot's leg and was protruding out the other side of his thigh, they moved with every sudden spasm or little shudder that Eliot's leg gave. The mallet was then pulled backwards, the spikes sliding out of Eliot's leg with a sickening _squelch _sound. As soon as the mallet was removed, blood began to gush out, pooling down his leg and onto the already stained floor. The pain was unbearable and Eliot quickly welcomed darkness.

Archer released his hold of the barbed wire and slowly walked round to face the unconscious man. Letting out a sigh of frustration, he shook his head "disappointin', Mr Spencer. Disappointin'".

Peaceful.

Everything was peaceful, and quiet and dark.

Peaceful…quiet…dark…

It was too peaceful, it was too quiet and it was far too dark.

Something was wrong.

Deprived of all senses, Eliot tried to remember what had happened. His memory was hazy so he figured it would come back to him if he sat up and assessed the environment. It didn't take long to realise that not all of his senses were gone- his pain receptor, for instance was still, unfortunately, intact. Just a slight jostle of his legs sent a shooting ripple of pain up his leg. It all came back to him then. Realising that he was no longer hanging by his wrists, he reached down to check the condition of his injury. To his surprise a scratchy piece of material had been wrapped around the wound. '_I guess I'm worth keeping around'_ he thought to himself. They obviously didn't want him bleeding out before they revealed why they had taken him. Feeling around he discovered that the puncture wound on his stomach had also been wrapped up. Eliot knew he wouldn't be walking on his leg anytime soon and just the mere thought of moving it at all made his stomach churn. However, he needed to test the room out, find the weakness and compose a plan to get out of this situation he had found himself in. Pushing himself onto his left side he slowly dragged himself around the boarder of the room, he rested one hand on the floor with the other on the wall to guide himself in the dark. After a very gruelling and painful few minutes, his assessment had turned up…nothing. He had found nothing that could help him. He was in an unfamiliar room, sitting in an eerie silence, shrouded by darkness.

All of a sudden an intense white light snapped on, assaulting Eliot with its sheer brightness. He had been in the dark for longer than he had thought. When his eyes had finally adjusted, they shifted to the door and watched as a young woman entered through it.

Her dark chestnut hair whipped around her waist as she swung the door closed behind her. She had a dark, tribal tattoo beneath her left eye. Turning around she held up a Taser.

"We can do this the easy way or we can do this very, very hard way… I'm telling you now, I'm really not in the mood for you to choose the latter." She moved closer. Slowly she tossed over a pair of handcuffs. They skidded to a stop inches away from Eliot.

"You want me to cuff myself?" he asked in disbelief.

A slow dip of her head and a raised eyebrow was the only answer he got. Sighing he obliged and slid the metal over his wrists. On a normal day, he would have been more than capable of taking out an opponent with his feet alone. Unfortunately, with his current leg injury, his chances of beating her dropped by half.

Seeing that he had finished, the woman smiled and pulled out a burlap sack that she had tucked away into the back of her pants— or so Eliot assumed…women had secrets and tricks when it came to that sort of thing. He hoped that the sack was the only thing she had tucked away.

As she kneeled in front of him she stroked a hand through his long hair.

"So pretty" he heard her mutter. Her hand became rough as it fisted and pulled his head back. Eliot tried to jerk away but she elbowed him in the temple and held him tight. "So playful tonight aren't we? That's good! You'll need as much energy as possible for this".

Before Eliot could question what she meant, the sack was pulled over his head and he was met by the same stupid darkness as before. He was getting real tired of this.

The smell of smoke was the first thing he noticed when the woman had brought him into the new room. The _click_,_ click_ of the woman's heels echoed beside him as she removed the sack from his head. Forcing him to his knees, the woman turned to the back of the room and smirked "he was pretty compliant sir, most likely due to his injuries…but he is known to be_…_unpredictable. Is that all you require of me sir?"

"Thank you Quinn. You may leave us" a hollow voice from the back of the room said. With a curt nod the woman left.

The man stalked up to Eliot and placed a hand on the young man's shoulder, turning him to the right. Eliot found himself facing a large wall made up of TV screens.

"I know all about you Mr Spencer. I know your past…I know your present…" as he spoke the screens turned on, revealing the inside of Nate's apartment. All four members of his team could be seen pacing and talking to each other, they were obviously in distress.

"…And I know your future, Mr Spencer. Are you ready to as well?" The man taunted, a condescending tone heavy in his voice. "I must warn you, though, you might find it a bit…distressing."

To be continued…

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**Well there we go! Did you love it? Hate it? Whatever opinion you have, let me know. I'd love to hear what you think! Make sure to watch out for the next instalment! (I won't take as long to update this time - I promise!)**


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